Wandering: Retold
by Seraleh
Summary: My retelling of Presea Combatir's life, from childhood, to retellings of the meetings with The Chosen, to her life after saving the world. Read and enjoy. (Update: Page 9 (Ch. 8) removed. Major revamp to Ch. 7. Taking advantage of new centering. :))
1. Prologue

**Thanks for taking the time to read this! I want to thank a friend of mine, Liquid, for helping me SO MUCH with this fiction! I hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed (and still enjoy) writing it!**

**(Also a huge thanks to Justin Hine, for I would know nothing of games if not for him)**

"These woods are lovely, dark, and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep..."

**Prologue**

Sieg glanced apprehensively at this young girl in his arms, and gave her wandering arm a gentle shake as he grasped it. He then let his eyes rest, motionless, on her face. An anxious grin began to spread across his cheeks as he began to think of the possibilities of his daughter, which he held in his arms. A bead of sweat drew a line down his beaming face, and solidified as it reached the grains of soil that rested on his chin.

Her dark lavender hair amused him for a time, and he ran his finger through it as he lay her down upon her bed. The man brushed his arm across his brow and inhaled generously before taking a step back. He pulled out into the doorway, and the hinges creaked as the door was slowly shut. The father strode proudly into his workroom and, his significant other resting from her overexertion, took hold of his tool and carried it outdoors.

He sighed in joy and began his work once more; hacking at the tree he had been lumbering boisterously on for the past morning. Through the thick canopy, only an occasional glint of sunlight could be used in aiding his work, yet he labored tirelessly for himself, and his family.

_One day,_ he thought. _My daughter will be a great woman. She will care for her children as I will care for her, and give them opportunities that I could never deliver. The Combatir name will be wiped from the minds of the masses as a family of fighters and become a family of leaders and pacifists... _

He forwent his work and held his axe as a crutch, glancing at the natural bridge that formed a link to Ozette; the tiny village that was, for now, his lifeline, one day a great city that would be made so by his offspring. The man continued his lumbering, and as the giant oak began to tip on its side, he gave it a mighty kick that sent it over.

_You'll make all of us proud... _


	2. Sieg

**Chapter 1**

A bright summer morning shone down upon her face as she shielded her eyes from the light. She smiled a bit, and, seeing her father, ran to him and clung to his shin.

"Daddy, carry me!" she demanded, jumping at him with her arms outstretched.

He obliged and hoisted her on his shoulders, laughing along with her.

"What should we do today, little one?" asked her father.

Presea glanced at the lake downhill from her house, and then shot her arms up.

"Let's go swimming, daddy!" said she.

The young girl dashed to the shore of the lake as her father dawdled behind her. She knelt down to look at her own reflection, and then looked back at him. Sieg was already short-winded by the time he reached the shore, but jumped in for the sake of entertaining his daughter. Presea leaped in after him and her father caught her, swinging her around his head, then tossed her up and let her splash into the water. She surfaced and giggled latching to him.

Sieg sighed happily and set her on the shore, climbing out himself.

"You may swim by yourself, little one, I am going to finish chopping firewood for the coming season," said Sieg.

The girl grinned and went back into the shallows, "Okay daddy, you enjoy yourself." she responded. "I will be in soon to check on you and mommy."

She resumed her activity and Sieg walked off opposite the front door of his house and retrieved his axe, Francesca.

_Again I begin my labor for my family, _he thought. _How long must we live off this land? When is the time to show my daughter the vast world she has never had the opportunity to see?_

A sunbeam shone in his eyes and he held his hand up to gaze above at the treetops.

_My daughter deserves more than this world. Presea deserves to see the world as it is becoming. She must not carry my footsteps..._

He spoke, "Presea must not be forced to live in this world of seclusion, only seen by myself and the villagers."

Sieg swung his axe with such force that it stuck in the trunk. Then he strode back to the door and saw his daughter, waiting for him. He placed his arm around her shoulder and walked inside with her at his side.


	3. It Ends and Begins

**Chapter 2**

The moist bricks bore the stench of mildew and blood, various pieces of equipment lay around the tattered shelves and drawers. A rotting door, its hinges gone, lay on its side next to a doorway, through which very little could be seen. A foreign machine in the corner emits a low buzz and occasionally shakes itself and the rickety table it sits upon. Cold tones shine through its glass domed top.

Immediately after a bright show of lights, the machine ceases to operate and its lid springs open, glowing brilliantly with an eerie shade of dark red. A man of small stature and large build, donning a laboratory coat, comes from the darkened doorway and takes gentle steps to the piece of equipment and carefully removes a small, gleaming jewel from inside. He holds it above his head and examines it, being excruciatingly meticulous.

Seemingly to approve of the quality of the gem, he takes it back through the darkness from which he appeared.

"It is complete" says he to a colleague. "The quality is unmistakable; this is truly what we have been striving for. Bring the specimen to the examination room and begin preparation. It is almost complete. Only small details remain."

The other, a woman, simply nods as he finishes. She gracefully moves to an operating table and begins tedious preparations for the experiment that she and others will have so long striven for.

He looks frustrated. "Then, Kate, what of the specimen? Is it prepared or shall it require more time?"

His female accomplice shifts from her work to the conversation, "Yes, Doctor, is it almost complete," said she. "But you and I both know that it is not my responsibility to prepare the specimen. If it is not finished, do not hold me responsible, for I shan't have your attitude and misguided anger on my shoulders."

The man shot an unassuming glare at her for a moment before darting through another exit, returning hastily. He motioned for a figure to come to him from outside the door. A moment later, a stretcher can be seen emerging from the dark and appearing into the dim light. A small body lay on it, that of an unconscious small girl. Behind it, pushing the mobile carrier forward, was a woman of her early twenties, dressed in a form-fitting olive uniform, tails down its back. She stopped and turned, exiting the room.

"There is no stopping after this, Altessa," said Kate. "There will not always be a chance to turn back."

He whipped around and lashed back at her, "You listen to me, half-elf, I will not be told when and what to do by a creature such as yourself! I have committed my research to this project and I will be damned if I am coaxed to quit because of you!"

Kate stood aghast at his harsh response.

"What of her taciturnity, Doctor? Surely people will suspect foul play. Must we really send her back to her hometown?" she passively retaliated.

"Enough," said he. "This is going to go forward, whether you choose to participate or not. Understood?"

The other operator reluctantly agreed and began to follow the doctor's many commands for equipment and tools. Bits and pieces of delicate materials began to disappear into the girl's body. She convulsed, and her eyelids sprung open wide.

She screamed, "Daddy! Daddy! Where is... where is... where is he? M-mommy?"

Altessa squinted at her tiny form and ordered his olive-clad assistant to administer more anesthesias into the body of the convulsing body. As the girl slowed her movements, the two operators continued their procedure with haste.


	4. Proving Thyself

**Chapter 3**

Presea jerks up and felt her heart beating frantically inside her chest. She is lying on an enormous bed, with golden décor and pearl encasings. On the walls hang tapestries and masterpiece paintings, the like of which she'd never gazed upon before. Only a small candle lights the room; it sits on a small end-table next to the corner opposite of her.

The girl thinks nothing of her surroundings, merely moving off of the bed and landing rather ungracefully on the ground beneath her. She walks to the door, which has on it engraved strange carvings and markings, and grasps the handle. Turning it slowly, she peers out through the exit into a grand hallway, with beautiful decorations and ornaments hanging about.

Gazing about her, she slowly begins to take steps toward the opposite end of the lengthy walkway, taking notice of the doorways and possible exits. As she reaches the end of the hallway, a large piece of headwear shows itself from a doorway, and then under it appears a man, who promptly begins to walk briskly toward Presea. His eyes open wide and he seems elated to see her...

"Ah, there you are, young one!" he exclaims. "Please do come with me. Oh my, oh my..."

The girl obeys instantaneously and follows him through a set of gigantic wooden double doors, into what appears to be a throne room. This area is the most highly decorated of the places she'd seen thus far. Miscellaneous decorations are strewn about the chamber haphazardly, but in a stark array that seems natural to the eye.

"Sir," says the man, exuding joy. "She is here! She is complete, finally!"

Presea looks to the largest chair, set in the middle of the room, in which sits a man of high stature and appeal. He sports a long, trimmed, brunette beard and wears robes as such that make him appear of a higher status than the others accompanying him. On his head rests a rather immodest crown, implanted with jewels and precious stones.

He stands and walks to Presea, placing a strong hand upon her left shoulder.

"My girl," says he. "I'm glad you're finally done and here to serve. You will be treated well. Your new position is that of the highest respect that can be placed upon non-royalty in this Kingdom of Tethe'alla."

He moves his other hand and points to a thick wooden beam, shaved clean and shined to an unparalleled perfection, a coat-of-arms carved into the side facing toward the ceiling.

"Those pieces of lumber are your duty from now on in your life," says the exalted man grasping her. "You are to be the Carrier of the Sacred Wood, and such shall be your title. Bring the lumber to me now, so that I may approve of your strength and willingness."

Presea eyed the man for a moment before pulling away from his grasp, which had weakened, and walked to the perfectly manipulated stalks of wood. She knelt down and examined a small handle which had also been carved into the trunk, and touched it. Presea tightened her grip around the handle and felt her body tense and she pulled upon the lumber.

She, to the surprise of all those in the room, hauled the titanic trunk to the king. He smiled in approval, and nodded slowly.


	5. Ceremony Detour

**Chapter 4**

She woke. Once again she springs up, panting and sweating in her sleep. Wiping her brow clean, Presea slows her heaving chest and gathers her breath. The reason for this unusual physical behavior still eludes her, but she does not take time to ponder it. The sun shone itself through her window and lighted the room with an encompassing glow, warm and subtle. Then she jumped from her bed onto the floor. The girl shed her sleep clothing and walked around her room aimlessly, seeming to forget what she was searching for. Eventually she regained her thoughts and methodically dressed herself.

As she exited her room, she closed her door with no regard to the disturbance of others. Her routine remained the same every day. She would make a visit to the Pope, address him a morning welcome as was customary, eat a modest breakfast, and then exit through the side door into the castle courtyard. Presea took upon her axe in and began to conscientiously hew at a lacerated bulk of wood, which had been laid in an integral pattern in the center of the grassy area.

This went on for a time, and she thought nothing of performing this labor for those the cared nothing about. Her personal feelings could not interfere. She preferred to think, rather, that her work was an important part of the structure of the kingdom and did not need to be questioned or challenged.

_I must perform this important task to fulfill my duty to the king and his understudies, _she thought. _There is no reason for me to question my duties or responsibilities. This is what I was born to do. I am not sufficient at other tasks. I must continue._

This manner of thinking continued in her mind for a time, during which she unknowingly completed her work and began to douse the lumber with oils and herbs. An understudy of the Pope withdrew from his observations of her careful movements and retrieved a small dagger, which he handed to Presea and bowed to her as he backed away, looking up to see her begin to carve an intricate symbol.

As she finished, she sheathed the knife in a small scabbard hung on her belt. Then she took the sacred wood through the Chapel; various priests and teachers knelt as she carried it past. Presea thought of today's Ceremony of the Sacred Wood. The king had been diagnosed with a strange illness and had been bedridden for the past week. This day's procession was dedicated solely to the recovery of the head-of-state.

"Young wood-bearer," said a voice from behind her. Presea heeded the call and turned to see her addresser. It was none other than the Pope himself, who then commanded her to take the Sacred Wood to the throne room, as the ceremony would be performed therein during this occasion. As Presea reached the exit, she was abruptly stopped by a young man clad in a crimson cloak-suit, long white tassels hanging from his neck down his back. What caught the girl's attention most prominently were the single-bladed swords that hung from his waist, sheathed but fully displayed.

To his left stood a young woman of roughly the same age, with platinum blonde hair and a cloak that covered her body, excluding her knees down. Behind her was another woman, older in both look and aura, who appeared to be the mental caretaker of the group. A small boy made himself conspicuous to the far right, having the same long silver hair as the eldest of the group. His face flushed and he took a regressive step.

The young man took notice of Presea, but thought nothing of her and let her pass. As she cleared a path and left the chapel, she heard the distinct voice of the Pope commanding the elite guards of royalty, the Papal Knights, to eviscerate the party, who had not been properly announced to enter the Church of Martel. The faction took their leave from the chapel and once again the male leader took notice of Presea, who was nearing the King's chamber.

"Wait, please!" he pleaded with her. "We must see the king, we're on important business!"

The guards at the castle doors tensed themselves as they saw the man talking with the sacred wood-bearer, and held their weapons in a passive defensive stance.

"My name is Lloyd Irving, and we're on important business from Sheena of Mizuho." said he.

Presea stopped for a moment... that name had some unknown significance. She agreed after further coaxing from the eldest female, and gently placed the log of sacred wood on the ground, allowing Lloyd and the boy to lift it instead. Both took opposite ends of the enormous log and grasped it firmly. On a count of three they both attempted to lift their respective sides, and failed miserably at doing so.

Presea took a few steps forward and grasped the handle of the lumber, dragging it up the steps to the castle entrance, and motioning for the guards to lower their defenses.

Lloyd and the young boy gawked at the girl wide-eyed and simply said, "I've lost all confidence as a man..."

Presea simply said sharply, "Come with me."

The guards eyed the team squeamishly as they walked through the two doors to the resting chamber of the royals.


	6. Dazed and Confused

**Chapter 5**

Inside the castle walls, all was in disarray. Due to the king's lack of ability to make important and lifesaving decisions, many concerned citizens and other forms of royalty waited with hardening impatience to speak with the leader. However, as they took notice of the log of Holy lumber being transported by these six, leeway was given for them. Up two, seemingly steeper, staircases the wood was carried by this small female; the group lagging behind her displaying utter astonishment at her incredible tenacity.

As they approached the king's resting chamber, the knight guards standing watch tensed, but became relieved as they saw Presea in the group. They noiselessly nudged the double-doors open and allowed entry. The Princess Hilda, at the king's sickly side, quickly flung her head up and glared menacing at the intruders.

"Wh-who are you people," she stammered, her face red with tears. "And why are you here?"

Lloyd stepped forward and presented the billet to the Princess, then said disrespectfully, "This letter's for the king, _Your Highness_. It's from Sheena, of Mizuho."

Hilda inhaled sharply, taken aback. She snatched the note from the swordsman's hand and furious ripped it open. After scanning it for a moment, she held it to the king at eye level. He opened his eyes to read, as instructed, and then fell back into his pillow with a loud heave and a tap on his daughter's hand. He then motioned her closer and relayed an inaudible message to her. She stood, bowed deeply, and then requested that the group be taken to a guest bedroom to await an answer. They complied, and waited therein for a time before the Pope entered the room with an answer.

"His Highness has accepted your request to travel the entirety of Tethe'alla," he said, flustered. "He also requests that that young girl with you be relieved of her duties, for he has accepted her fifteen years of service and now wishes to reward her loyalty and obedience."

Every individual in the chamber became wide-eyed and glanced back at the short, pink-haired girl standing in the corner. Lloyd's jaw hung open for a few moments, while Raine and Colette simply stared.

"Fi... fifteen years!?" cried a voice from the far end of the resting chamber.

Presea recognized the cry as coming from Zelos Wilder. He was the foremost foolhardy womanizer in the land of Tethe'alla. Moreover, he was the Chosen of Mana. This individual was taught to be the most respected person in the land and was treated as such, lavished with gifts and riches. Furthermore, he was blessed with an uncanny allurement that seemed to entrap every female except her. He is overdressed in an immodest veneer that conceals his true nature; however much it complements his long burgundy locks.

Zelos spoke again, still in astonishment. "That's incredible! I can't believe it; she's no taller than a ten-year-old!"

Presea bore no reaction to this statement, simply saying, "I am the height of an underdeveloped child of a dozen years."

"Be silent!" commanded the Pope. "His Highness also wishes that The Chosen accompany you on your journey to validate the authenticity of your quest."

Zelos brushed a strand of hair from his view, then stated, rather reluctantly, "I'll be in the Chapel preparing. Meet me there when you guys are ready to go." The Chosen then made a hasty exit, bursting out the door and down the grand hallway.

The Pope took his leave, and then exited as well.


	7. The Bridge, Thoughts

**Chapter 6**

The group headed east to the Grand Tethe'alla Bridge, with Zelos and Presea in tow. The young taciturn girl was carrying herself rather well for not having traveled for a time. Across the expanse of ocean, she seemed neither concerned nor worried for her companions or their objectives; even returning herself to her hometown brought little interest. As the coast finally came over the horizon, collective sighs of relief were heard from all but the small Presea.

She was the first to touch land; she stopped and turned back, waiting for the others to cross. Sybak, the University Town, was within a half-day's walking distance of the exit of the overseas transit. The party leaders chose to rest a day before continuing their quest. Presea looked to the sky and muttered, "Sixty-five percent possibility of rain showers or thunderstorms."

Colette had been observing the young girl from afar for quite a while now, inspecting her every move to try and place her personality. She tried to begin conversations with the pink-haired axewoman, but gained no ground. Colette pondered how one could be so lifeless and uncaring; the party had, after all, been obligated to return the girl to her home. How she could be ungrateful at a time like this was beyond their understanding.

That evening Genis Sage, Raine's small brother, began to make supper for the group. Presea abstained from joining them and instead withdrew to the open fields around their campsite. After taking up her axe, she began to cleave the air carelessly, simply keeping her mind occupied with something other than the town that lay ahead of them.

She stopped for a moment, and then looked to the east toward Gaoracchia Forest. A knot began to curl in her stomach, tightening with each passing glace. She began again. On her fiftieth heft, she stopped and held her Francesca in air during mid-swing. Presea placed her tool upon the ground and sat next to it, curling her knees to her chest and holding her arms around them.

Presea whimpered, though she knew not what it was. She cried, though she had not been given the ability. The girl saw a vision of her father, beaming, when the vision began to solidify. She reached to him, took his hand, and held it delicately. As quickly as her father had appeared there before her, he began to retreat from her view. Presea chased his image, and leaped into his fading arms, but to no avail. She knelt down and openly began to weep aloud.

Then she shot straight up, heaving and perspiring, akin so many other nights. The girl had not the capability to perform such emotional displays visibly to others. Her only forms of release were the thoughts she kept inside her, she being unable to illustrate to the outside world.

"I want to go home..." she said humbly, yet weeping furiously within.


	8. Sybak, The Coliseum

**Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait. Many thanks to my reviewers; I've decided to add a little more detail and slow things down a bit. The following chapter may slightly differ from the game itself. It _is_ told through my view, after all. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 7**

The party drew near their destination, the sky shining bright in the midmorning sun. The older elf urged the group on, keeping their minds free of distractions, focused only on completing their trek. Soon, the city walls came into view. Over the hardened stone structures shot buildings of titanic proportions, steeples and towers filling the sky. The town seemed to forbid their entry, and it hardly seemed inviting. With the presence of Zelos, the Chosen, the gatekeepers had no hesitation to open their doors.

Immediately the atmosphere overtook them; that of stuffy and pompous citizens, overwhelming and utterly stifling. From every direction, glares of suspicion and curiosity came onto them. The Sybak University of Chemical and Physical Sciences was the goal; the university sat in the middle of the city. The group's romp through the city streets brought spectators and curious onlookers to gawk at the strange outsiders. Those who recognized the Tethe'alla's Chosen pondered him traveling with this group.

"I do not like this place," Presea commented.

Genis Sage glanced back to her, studying her reactions carefully and intently. This small half-elf, unlike his sister, focused more on personal emotions of his companions rather than straightforward, labeling physiology. He contemplated asking her about her experiences in the University Town, but chose to go tongue-in-cheek and wait.

They came upon the school, at length, and considered its rustic beauty. Intricate designs were carved into its wooden doors, complementing the pearly-white knockers. Raine took a breath of astonishment and reveled at its perfection; for so long had she longed to visit a place where those devoted to knowledge had free reign. She took off into the building and, if by some unknown force, immediately found the library, and delved into the vast quantities of knowledge stored therein.

The remaining travelers, however, took upon themselves more urgent matters. The prehistoric skeleton displayed in the foyer stood as a precursor for what they – Lloyd especially – thought was to come. Through a door to their immediate left they followed to a walkway, then into a study. A hidden doorway was shown to them, through which they entered. All except Presea, who froze in place.

Something was churning inside of her mind. Secluded memories rushed to her; something was telling her not to go forward, and a foreboding sense of danger spread over her. Her mind pulled her back. Genis stopped for a moment and turned back to her, appearing worried.

"Are you alright, Presea?" he queried shakily.

She convulsed, taking a step backward.

Genis stared at her, holding his breath, "Presea...?"

The axewoman dropped to her knees, holding her arms around her, eyes tightly shut. Her breathing became labored and her being began to sweat profusely. A squeal of pain escaped her lips and she fell to the ground, panting heavily.

Genis ran to the rest of the group, "Everyone! Something is the matter with Presea!"

At this, they ran back and Lloyd took her in his arms and cradled her. "We have to keep going," he said determinedly. "For her sake."

The rest agreed and hurriedly ran through the passage to the exit, which they came to soon realize ended at a basement room with a putrid stench wafting about the chamber. There were two occupants of the dungeonlike room already – both of whom wore laboratory coats – and they were vexed at this sudden entry. The female of the two spoke viciously at them.

"You! You can't just barge in here unannounced! Who do you think you are?"

"No time to explain," Lloyd replied. "We have to let this girl get some rest. Do you have a bed?"

She took notice of the small pink-haired girl held in his arms, and feeling a slight sting of guilt, pointed to a small cot in the far corner of the chamber. Lloyd took Presea to it, laid her down, and placed his hand on her forehead. Her convulsions had stopped, much to his relief. The girl was still soaked in her sweat, though, and needed to recuperate for the time being.

"Now explain yourselves," said the woman. "What business could you possibly have here?"

Zelos spoke, "I am the Chosen of Mana!" he announced. "And we need information. Who are _you_?"

She was taken aback, "M-me?" she stammered, still shocked. "I'm a scientist here at the University. A doctor. My name is Kate."

**Six years later**

_Focus, _she thought. _Focus and master it._

Presea Combatir had been training incessantly in the Meltokio Coliseum for three years now. The axewoman had become the weapons master in the preparation rooms, along with competing in the tournaments herself every so often. She had recently begun to attempt to push herself beyond her physical and mental limitations to create new techniques for her pupils to learn. But first she herself had to master them.

The girl tried to boost her confidence. _You can do this, Presea, just concentrate,_ she told herself. _This will all come to you in time._

But she could not bring herself to complete this new attack. Her emotions were tugging at her, and she couldn't focus her mind.

"Damn it," she exclaimed, tiring. "I cannot believe I still have that man on my mind. That fool means nothing to me!"

However, try as she might, her thoughts continued to slip back to that tragic day, two years prior.


End file.
